


Thalarctos

by dawnmarionette



Category: Free!
Genre: Ikuya POV, Introspection, M/M, Miscommunication, Overuse of similes, god writing as ikuya is hard im never doing this again LOL, please talk to your friends kids!!! understanding e/o is important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 20:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15893217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnmarionette/pseuds/dawnmarionette
Summary: Sometimes, when he thinks Ikuya isn’t looking, Hiyori’s eyes go dim.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yall left me such nice comments on my other hiyoikus i had to finish this since it's been sitting in my drafts since before ep7.. this is completely unbeta'd and it was kind of hard for me to stay in line w ikuya's thoughts the whole time but i hope you enjoy it!

Sometimes, when he thinks Ikuya isn’t looking, Hiyori’s eyes go dim.

It’s more than being lost in thought, though Ikuya himself has yet to figure out exactly how. It’s like his expression goes dark, blank; like his smile was only a paper mask, and when Ikuya’s gaze strays from it it flutters to the wind as if it was never there.

Ikuya can’t understand what it means. Or, maybe, he won’t. Because even if he tries, it’s hard to recall a time in his life he’s stopped and seriously considered Hiyori- not his fickle preferences in sweets, not his intimidatingly studious-looking books, not his atrocious study habits, not his grandiose collection of video games- but just Hiyori.

Maybe he hasn’t tried very hard to think about Hiyori because it’s difficult. Everywhere he looks, he sees reflections of his own life and how much of it is affected by Hiyori; he only sees how almost every part of Hiyori that he knows is somehow connected to him.

Trying to understand Hiyori, sometimes, is like being on the wrong side of a one-way mirror. Pressing his fingers to the glass doesn’t help him to see what hides behind the gleaming smile; it just leaves his fingerprints behind, smudging the glass. Everywhere he goes, Hiyori is never far behind. But in that way, or possibly because of it, he has never seen Hiyori unguarded. Each of their encounters are initiated by him, and the simple familiarity of his honeyed voice and hazel eyes obscure how Hiyori is blinding him with his brand of devotion and coffee-stained friendship. Hiyori is always behind him, so there’s no way for Ikuya to turn and see him from the back, instead of what Hiyori chooses to reveal facing forward- not without taking the long way around. Not without pursuing him on his own.

So he doesn’t.

Ikuya knows that Hiyori, himself, has seen Ikuya at his worst. Since the very beginning he has been there through all of his pitifully human moments of weakness, back when he used to cry in the showers of the dorms because the heat of the water brought memories of ocean eyes and warm hands and broken promises too close to the surface to bear. Before he taught himself how to stifle it, he knows Hiyori had to have heard, even if he’s never mentioned it. Hiyori had even been at the hospital. Books offered shyly, saccharine smiles that Ikuya knows now lured (enchanted) him into accepting the regularity of his presence.

It’s impossible to guess if Hiyori knew what he was doing when he balked, bashful, on the stiff visitors’ couch that day, if he knew how it swayed Ikuya so subtly he wasn’t aware he was leaning in till he lost his balance. He’s good at being beguiling when he wants to be. Ikuya has witnessed him sweet-talk his way out of a tricky situation more than once. Were the flickers of his lashes fluttering when he glanced up at Ikuya over his phone another form of sweet-talking, too? Did Hiyori design his honeysuckle greetings of “Good morning, Ikuya!” to win him over, just so?

Ikuya hates to admit it but he’s always been particularly susceptible to outside influence; always too easily washed out with the tides, knees giving out at the first sign of love or hate too close to him. Perhaps it’s just his constitution. Naturally thin skin that he can only protect by drawing away from everyone and everything that might damage it. After all, he doesn’t even notice he’s being drawn into a new orbit until he’s already firmly at the mercy of the new pull of gravity.

Hiyori is, as far as Ikuya can remember or imagine, the only exception. Hiyori is comfortable in his own self (unlike Ikuya) but gentle, like _his_ laws of gravity are merely suggestions, which Ikuya may choose to ignore if he wishes. He rarely does. Letting himself be pulled along with Hiyori’s pace isn’t unpleasant, carefree as it may be at times. There’s a kind of happiness to be had sipping bubble tea at a mall together.

Even at the mall, though, even when Hiyori’s laughing around a straw in his mouth, Ikuya can’t help but take a moment to observe the almost imperceptible downward twitch to his lips after he’s gone quiet. Hiyori’s eyes are inscrutable when he meets Ikuya’s gaze again, and Ikuya is left wondering, again, what churns behind those eyes in the moments in between. The cracks in his smile that Ikuya has only _glimpsed_ , really, seem to imply the existence of something else, something behind and underneath the Hiyori Ikuya is familiar with.

For the first time, he gets a real hint at it, when Hiyori says suddenly _Didn’t the little mermaid… turn into sea foam in the end?_ Ikuya looks at him, but can’t catch his expression with Hiyori’s face turned to the ground. He gets the distinct feeling that if he could see him properly, in that moment, he’d get a real look at the mask being lowered.

_I’m actually not that fond of it._

Ikuya doesn’t quite know what to do with this knowledge, if he should even do anything at all.

So he doesn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

Ikuya may not know what passes through Hiyori’s mind when he isn’t paying attention, but he should’ve expected him to push when Ikuya pulled back. His motive- well, Ikuya can’t claim to understand that, but when Hiyori draws closer than either of them had ever openly dared, he shouldn’t have been surprised, but he is. He doesn’t expect it, can’t think of what reason Hiyori could have for being so _demanding_ , so when his mind falters it’s instinct that takes over and shoves Hiyori right back. Why is he doing this? Why are either of them?

He should’ve looked harder, fuck, should’ve _asked,_ should’ve tried to understand earlier, because the stunned hurt on Hiyori’s face is so open that Ikuya feels his heart drop straight out of his body. This isn’t right, this isn’t how any of this is supposed to go, Hiyori was supposed to stay the warm, steady presence by his side, never pushing, never probing. Hiyori was _supposed_ to be _comfortable_ , that was who he _was._ Ikuya’s comfort. Though not who he is, anymore.

The ringing in his ears is probably his imagination, but it doesn’t really help even knowing that because it still drowns out his own “sorry,” dropped at Hiyori’s feet before he escapes like a coward. If Hiyori says anything to him in return he doesn’t hear that either.

Something had made Hiyori that desperate, enough to break their dynamic and force his way into the space reserved for _Haru_ he had never dared touch. No, that isn’t right. _Ikuya_ had made Hiyori that desperate. He doesn’t know why.

 _This is his own fault. He keeps sticking his nose in my business. I’m_ fine  _on my own._

It echoes hollow and false even to himself.

He doesn’t sleep that night. The sun greets him with stabbing rays, falling gently through the curtains to drive luminescent knives right into his temples through his eyes. The throbbing headache he has to show for his lack of rest or any real sustenance to speak of shines through in practice that day, when his times drop spectacularly from even his struggling records lately. He’s distracted, though, can’t form a conscious thought about that besides a wordless cloud of frustration and insecurity, because something besides his swimming is wrong today.

It’s strange to see Hiyori turn his back to him. In all the time they’ve known each other, Ikuya can’t recall another instance of Hiyori choosing to look the other way rather than in his direction. Even when they’d had disagreements, it was usually Hiyori who caved quickly and waved his hands in a gesture of appeasement. _“Sorry, Ikuya!”_ he’d say. _“You can think anything you want, I didn’t mean to upset you.”_

It’s possible, Ikuya thinks now, the only reason he’s even considering any of these things in the first place is the sudden absence of what he’d grown accustomed to. After all, he had seen but never noticed the way Hiyori would always perk up keenly upon hearing his voice. It’s only now that Hiyori doesn’t react so instinctively that Ikuya realizes he misses it. The little actions- all those tiny, impossibly significant ways he showed he cared, before- they maybe- probably had never been a form of flattery, in the end.

They were probably… just Hiyori, and Ikuya is making excuses for being charmed by him.

He’s left unsteady in the wake of his awareness, understanding dawning that he needs to mend whatever had cracked between them but not knowing exactly how. Not until-

The relay. The one thing that had always connected him more deeply to others- to _them-_ than he had ever felt before. What he had avoided in his blind quest to become stronger, not understanding that it only made him weaker to hide away. The kind of openness and trust that existed only in the light filtering through the water, felt strong and true deep inside from the hoarse cheers of teammates, the desperate stretch to pass on the banner like reaching for a friend’s hand.

Hiyori’s shoulders, when he finds him by the vending machines, are slumped. Even when he turns back to look at Ikuya, it’s slow, like he’s reluctant to face him. The smile takes a long few seconds for him to force onto his mouth, but when he does, it’s almost sad. Ikuya doesn’t like how Hiyori seems to think he owes him praise, coated in false gentleness.

He doesn’t want flattery. He just wants Hiyori back.

It’s almost a relief when Hiyori drops the smile, drops his gaze, asks without asking if Haru is the only one Ikuya sees beside him in the water. It stings that Ikuya has let this go so far that Hiyori would believe he could be willingly forgotten, but this is Ikuya’s doing. The backlash Hiyori felt when he was just trying to _help_ but Ikuya had been too stubborn to accept it- it’s his responsibility, now, to extend the olive branch, because Hiyori had never deserved that. It’s like a wave breaking on the shore to soothing sea foam when Hiyori lifts a hesitant hand and accepts it. Ikuya’s heart feels lighter when the timeless affection sparks in his chest once again, Hiyori’s small but honest smile new and familiar at the same time.

Maybe Ikuya is seeing it clearly for the first time, and maybe that’s okay. Because the warmth that’s returned to Hiyori’s eyes when he looks at him promises that Ikuya has all the time in the world to try and understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update: im keeping the unnecessary chapter break for dramatics


End file.
